


Every aching wound

by Olivia_Ellinora



Category: Homeland
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 18:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5216549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olivia_Ellinora/pseuds/Olivia_Ellinora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Up until four years ago Carrie had genuinely believed that she would be alone her whole life. Not isolated as in no one to talk to – she had her sister and, back then, her father. Or alone as in no one to fuck - that had never been a problem. Alone in the doleful way. Like being in a room filled with people yet feeling as if she was the only human on earth. To never have someone who she didn't have to explain herself to, someone who got her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every aching wound

A soft moan startled her and she turned her attention to the man on the bed. Even in the dim light of the basement she could tell that he was pale and that his forehead was covered in sweat. Carrie felt her gut clench. She wasn’t good at the medical stuff and had manage to get out of CIA’s mandatory first aid course by making some story that she couldn’t see blood, but she had experienced enough gun shots – on her and others – to be able to tell that this couldn’t be good. Hell, even Frannie could have told her that Quinn was practically dying. As if he could sense her worry he opened his eyes and forced a smile that probably was supposed to be reassuring but looked more like a grimace.

“I’m alright, Carrie. You should really get some sleep.”, he said, clearly making an effort to keep his voice steady. She knew it was a lie, could tell that he was in pain from the way his hands grabbed the blanket until his knuckles whitened. Yet he wanted to ease her worries. He had let his guard down before, allowing her to take care of him – the way he had taken care of her, and when she had put his head on her shoulder she had felt good, being able to be there for him, be the one to touch him for the first time in god now how long. Now he clearly had managed to re-build his shell and it hurt her in one way. He’d seen her at her worst and still he didn’t let her in. Putting off her stumbling, but oh-so real attempts, to care and comfort him. But it also made her a little relieved, she knew from experience that keeping walls up took energy and maybe – just maybe – that meant that he wasn’t so bad after all.

She didn’t leave though, told him to cut the crap and just get better. He wasn’t the only one who could be stubborn, but the truth was that she wouldn’t be able to leave his side no matter what. Instead she placed a hand on his exposed forearm worrying a pattern into his skin, indulged herself in looking at him in the way she never really done before. Seeing things she had never noticed before. How sharp his cheekbones were. That he had a small scar on his chin, she couldn’t remember if it had always been there. Quinn opened his eyes again and the gaze that met hers was so painfully familiar, even with the hurt evident, the combination of faith and affection that she hadn’t let herself miss. Carrie felt the tears burning behind her eyelids and turned away from Quinn. Didn’t want him to console her when she should comfort him, so instead she excused herself – something about getting him some water, retreating to the kitchen area to finally allow herself a few moments of feeling the pain. The pain caused by a lost life. Of leaving her child. Of once again letting Quinn down, putting herself first.

She had dozed off sometime during the morning hours, back against the wall and just a few steps away from Quinn’s bed. She didn’t sleep well, not that she had expected to, and dreamed bizarre dreams where she saw Franny’s face with an expression of blame, Nazir chasing her in the streets of a strange city, Quinn’s face when she stood on top of his bomb that day in Islamabad. The day everything started to change. Or maybe it started before that, in her half sleeping state Carrie couldn’t remember. The basement was still in complete darkness and she looked down at her wrist to get a sense of time. 4 am. A fast calculation based on when she checked on Quinn the last time, how tired she was and that nothing made sense told her that she in the very best of scenarios had gotten three hours of sleep. A thought regarding trying to get some more went through her mind but she found herself unable to relax before she knew how Quinn was. Judging by his shattered breaths she would guess not good and her stomach twisted to the point were she felt ill. So instead of sinking back into her dreams she got up and wetted a wash cloth then sat down beside him, put a hand on his fore head to check if he had a temperature.

That small gesture brought back memories of the times when Franny had caught a cold or a flu and how it had felt weird at first – taking care of someone else, being there – and how she then had gotten used to it and eventually started to appreciate being needed. God she missed her. Lost in her thoughts she absently ran her finger tips down Quinn’s cheek, tracing a path down to his throat were she briefly stopped, checking his pulse, and then continued down over his protruding collarbone before the flat of her hand settled on his heart while she ran the cold cloth over his neckline and shoulders with her other hand. At first his heart beat irregular against her palm and once again she found herself worrying in a way she’d never been about him before. Or never let herself be. Then something changed, like if his body stopped fighting and relaxed, Carrie couldn’t tell if that was good or bad but his heart rate went down to a more normal one, his breaths seemed to come easier and his features smoothed out. Just like Franny’s always had done, she thought and then changed her mind. Did.

She had believed that he was better the next morning. That a night’s sleep had had a positive effect. He had seemed clear, not feverish or delirious, and they had decided that she was going to ask Astrid for help. He he’d been against it at first and the bickering that had followed brought memories back of all the other times they had worked together and done just that. She had gotten her way then too. Maybe because of how normal everything had felt she had forgotten who he was, that he, just like her were an expert in hiding pain. Suffer quietly, or he just hadn’t wanted to bother her more. Quinn was stoic like that. Now he was bent over, the hurt more obvious in his face than ever before and when she put her hand on the back of his neck she almost pulled back by the sudden heat against her palm.

“God Quinn, you’re burning up” He responded with his usual “I’m fine”, but this time Carrie didn’t doubt that he lied. Didn’t even think that he believed it himself anymore. The fact that he had to lean heavily against her for support to even get back to the bed proved it. She demanded to see his wound and he somehow found energy to slap her hand away, she could honestly not even think of a reason for that at this point. “Let me see”, she said again while simply holding him down with her bodyweight. Carrie had seen her fair share of disgusting injuries but the combination of the inflamed wound and the fact that it was he made her nauseous. Then he said septic and she didn’t doubt anymore. She was going to get his ass to a hospital even if it meant drugging him down and calling an ambulance. Then it hit her, maybe she could fix it without ruining everything. He wouldn’t like it though. None of them.

Up until four years ago Carrie had genuinely believed that she would be alone her whole life. Not isolated as in no one to talk to – she had her sister and, back then, her father. Or alone as in no one to fuck, that had never been a problem. Alone in the doleful way. Like being in a room filled with people yet feeling like the only human on the planet. Never having someone who she never would have to explain herself to, someone who got her. Never having a person who stood behind her whatever stupid things she did. Someone who accepted her, and not only that, but loved her for all of her (very obvious, very real) flaws. She had believed that she had found that with Jonas, convinced herself maybe. Found that it was easier than she had made it out to be in her head. Now she realised that maybe it wasn’t supposed to be that easy, that she wanted someone who didn’t want to put her fire out like Brody had, or tame I like Jonas wanted to. But someone who could nourish it, see it as an access. Love her for it. Love her for who she was, with flaws and everything. A person who seen her at her worst and loved her not in spite of it but rather because of it.

Now she sat at the bed Quinn had been lying in not even 24 hours ago. His blood on the sheets. His head print on the pillow. Carrie felt numb, like nothing was important anymore and she wondered were everything had gone to hell. Last week? Two years ago? She couldn’t tell. She sank down on the bunk. Seeing Jonas walk away. Visualizing Franny. His eyes before he’d kissed her – that one time. The only time. All she was left with was a big fucking wound. A wound she didn’t know how to fill. Or if she wanted to. A single tear found its way down her cheek. She could taste the salt on her lips. And Carrie formed the words that were still alien to her. The words she’d never said to Brody. That had felt wrong to Jonas. And that had taken far to long to say to Franny – and to him. First quiet in her head and then as a whisper for only the dark walls, even though she wanted to scream it out from the roof tops. But it was to late.

_And the walls would never tell._

**Author's Note:**

> I do know that Quinn won't die (right now anyway) but it made sense for the story having Carrie believing that he's dead. 
> 
> Excuse grammar mistakes, english isn't my mother tongue. 
> 
> Aaand ENJOY the new episode tonight (or in my case at 4am tomorrow)
> 
> Inspired by Fell in love without you by Motion city soundtrack


End file.
